14 years ago, in Lin City. That summer, Xu Xingchun entered the junior high section of a key middle school1.
At home, it was dark and damp, with an old dimmed light bulb always on.
His odd and reclusive mother started taking medication day and night but couldn’t sleep, tormented by illness, unable to find any peace, weighing less than 50 pounds.
Dishes shattered amidst curses. Strangers visited more and more frequently.
At school, he was an outstanding boy, with delicate features, quiet and intelligent.
While his peers rushed to the basketball court during breaks, shouting and yelling, he didn’t participate in recreational activities, didn’t watch TV, and didn’t play with phones.
Used to being alone, with no emotions to fill the void, no friends. Introverted, day after day, he lived through this long, lonely, depressing, and dull life.
His soul was locked at the bottom of a dark sea, without light. On the surface, he still tried to maintain a normal appearance, naturally unaware of his personality flaws, neither warm nor cold to others.
Many people underestimated Xu Xingchun.
In the stifling midsummer, behind the school mountain, was an abandoned construction site. The hot wind, reaching nearly a hundred degrees, carried dry air.
The well-known top student, the regular flag-raiser on Mondays. He was fair and thin, his school uniform half-open, casually lighting a cigarette, puffing away.
The smoke passed through his lungs, and he slowly exhaled from his throat.
Sitting at this height, he could see a lake in the distance. He stared blankly.
Lonely and gloomy, he sat quietly on a low wall, the stuffy afternoon wind still. There were scattered footsteps, and Xu Xingchun slowly raised his eyes.
His gaze moved from low to high.
A pale yellow short skirt, snow-white arms, her whole body rimmed with light. There was an overly scorching sun, distorting the air, and then he saw the newcomer’s face clearly.
A fading camellia was bitten between her lips, the silver chain on her ankle jingling, approaching him boldly. She saw him too, and he didn’t have time to look away.
A moment passed.
She picked up a stone and threw it at the wall beneath his feet, looking up, “Hey, you look so cool smoking, which class are you from?”
He hunched his thin back, elbows on his knees, his thick, straight eyelashes lowered. Unhurriedly, he extinguished the half-smoked cigarette with his fingertips. Xu Xingchun silently met her gaze.
Not far away, she leaned against the wall, carelessly discarding a flower, her knee-high thin white socks dirty.
Unlike other girls her age, she showed no shyness and had no extra words. She looked back at him with watery eyes, arrogant and self-satisfied.
Her lips curled into dimples on both sides; she had a natural smiling mouth. Suddenly, her smile bloomed brightly. Looking elsewhere, she put her index finger to her rose-like lips, as if telling a secret, “Shh, someone’s coming, I have to go.”
She said, “Actually, I’m a monster, don’t tell anyone you saw me.”
A stray cat passed by, and she let out a happy squeal with a nasal voice, chasing after it.
Watching that gradually distant figure, Xu Xingchun was dazed.
They had no connection, she had stumbled upon his shameful secret, they were strangers to each other.
Later, he quit smoking, but never saw her again. He continued his mechanical, monotonous, patterned life. Facing textbooks, notebooks, materials. Meticulously repeating calculation formulas.
The second time he saw her, the sun was still fierce and intense. He packed up his books and walked out of the classroom with his backpack.
The hallway was crowded after class. She walked past the classroom door with her black hair flowing, smooth as silk. Ignoring school rules, she wore an embroidered white camisole, her delicate snow-white back exposed to the air without care. A beautiful chiffon short skirt, trimmed with fine lace.
She walked alone under a large umbrella. Carefree and aloof, detached from those around her, existing conspicuously.
As they brushed past each other, Xu Xingchun’s heart felt like tiny insects were crawling over it. He turned and walked into the crowd, following behind her, from the stairwell, through the corridor, past the dense parasol trees, and to the school gate.
Later he learned that she wasn’t his illusion, nor was she a monster. The whole school knew her, there were stories about her everywhere. She even frequently appeared in boys’ discussions after class.
That’s how Xu Xingchun gradually learned that the girl who caught him smoking at the abandoned construction site was called Fu Xueli.
She never looked at anyone directly, came from a well-off family, had average grades, and had a seemingly lively circle of friends. They roamed around the campus, indifferent to others, caustic and dangerous.
In his dream, Xu Xingchun saw Fu Xueli again. She sat beside him, her jade-like slender legs swaying in the wind, revealing a glimpse of her slim waist, her toes tickling one’s spine.
For the first time, he found something truly beautiful. He was so focused and entranced that he dared not continue looking. The details were clear; he really wanted to reach out and touch her, then nibble on her inch by inch.
Touch the protruding butterfly bones on her back, touch her smooth, clean neck, was it as pure and fragile as it looked?
Actually, at first glance, when she leaned against the wall, looking up with a flower between her teeth, Xu Xingchun had already reacted.
Her hand, barely there, cool and smooth, climbed up his back. Enveloping him. He rolled up the hem of her skirt. The girl’s smooth thighs, like gentle waves, were completely exposed.
Xu Xingchun casually turned on the bathroom light. He looked at himself in the mirror, his arm pressed against the tiles, his fingers gradually gripping tighter. He covered his face with a towel, closed his eyes, and panted as he pleasured himself.
After showering, he walked barefoot back to his room and sat at his desk.
The camellia she had carelessly discarded was picked up by him and placed in the corner of a drawer, gradually withering in his diary. Xu Xingchun felt real for the first time.
An unrestricted reality.
There were rumors at school that she had recently gotten a boyfriend.
She would kiss someone else.
She would smile at someone else.
She would tell someone else they looked cool smoking.
He knew she wasn’t a monster.
She wasn’t his salvation.
In the dark, silent night like an abyss, he repeatedly smashed a chair against the wall.
- ???? (Zhòngdi?n Zh?ngxué), roughly translated as “key middle school”, refers to a select group of middle schools recognised for their higher academic standards and strong performance. They’re highly competitive to get in, and prestigious as well. ↩︎
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